Have your Cake
by freelf13
Summary: Harry and Ginny are sent to pick Ron and Hermione's wedding cake. Fluff! I promise it will make you happy! Reviews are welcome!


"Well, if Ron and Hermione had to give us some dumb-ass wedding job to do, I'm glad it's this one." I say to Harry as we walk through the sickeningly white doors of the bakery.

"Me too." he agrees. "I'm starved. Haven't eaten since Hermione shoved those fabric swatches under my nose three hours ago. She made me drop my sandwich because the bloody things almost went up my nostrils." He lets go of my hand, which he was holding, in mid-sentence and goes to up to the counter to ring the service bell. A sweet-faced witch comes around through the back.

"Weasley-Granger samples, please." I say behind Harry. She smiles and places a chubby hand on Harry's arm, leading him to a long white table. She takes our coats and says, "The first will be out in a moment, Miss Granger." I blush scarlet, but Harry just sits and smiles, oblivious.

"I'm not" I begin to say, but she has already disappeared through the back curtain. Harry is still looking hungrily at the display cakes, which I don't think look all that fantastic to eat, but have to admit they look beautiful. A live fairy dressed in tiny little clothes of edible flowers and frosting lace skates around the top of a buttercream cake, mesmerizing me. The stout little witch comes back, three cake samples floating lazily in the air behind her. She lays them down on the table before us, saying to select one we like. Then she will come out with three more, and by the end of the process we will have selected a cake. She leaves again before I tear my eyes away from the fairy.

The first sample of cake is a chocolate cake enrobed in white frosting, a torrent of blue flowers flowing lazily down each layer in a spectacular imitation of a waterfall. Without a second thought, Harry sinks his fork into the side of the cake, recoiling when a little blue flower screams in agony and falls heavily to the bottom of the cake. I laugh and laugh as Harry, like a child denied candy, pouts at the massacred slice. Eventually he gets sick of my laughing and smears a blue flower on my nose.

"You're dead, Potter!" I say, sticking my finger into the frosting as another flower cries out, readying my revenge. Harry grabs my wrist before the frosting flies, though.

"Can't be throwing frosting around here, Gin. Ron and Hermione would never forgive us if we got kicked out of the cake shop. The one job Hermione seems to think we wont screw up."

"Ugh."

He's right, of course he's right. But I really don't want to admit it. I smirk at him.

"Fine. But this cake won't do. They can't have a cake that dies when they cut it. Just doesn't say "wedding bliss" to me."

"Right." Harry agrees. "Shame though." He digs his fork into the cake again, this time ignoring the screaming flower, and shovels a large bite into his mouth.

"It's good!"

I laugh as he scrapes the frosting off my nose and feeds it to me. He isn't lying. The frosting is vanilla sugar and the cake is chocolate. It is delicious. I keep laughing until Harry asks what's so funny.

"You know," I lean back in my chair. "If someone said to me three years ago, mid war, Gin, when all of this is over you'll be married to the man of your dreams and watching your brother get married to your best friend, and just as an added bonus you get to pick their cake with your husband of two years, I wouldn't have believed them."

I lean forward to kiss Harry. His lips are still covered in frosting, which I lick off my own when we pull apart.

"Mmmmm…" I sigh.

"Oi!" He playfully snaps, "Don't go picking off my frosting!"

We both laugh.

The second cake is a lime green cake covered in a deep chocolate frosting and beautiful dancing white patterns. The little fleur-de-lis glide in swooping circles around the cake, unraveling into long strands of pale frosting that run off the cake and out of sight.

"Why is the cake part…green?" Harry asks tentatively.

"I don't really care, just so long as it doesn't yell at me when I try to eat it." I reply, prodding it with my fork. No sound.

"Tuck in."

As we are eating, Harry looks up at me. Then he holds his fork, covered in the green cake, in front of his nose and squints.

"You know Gin," he says in his most fake haughty voice. "Put this cake in your hair and it's be like immediate Christmas."

"Don't you dare," I say, trying to withhold my giggles. "I don't fancy bats flying out your nose and wrecking all this wonderful cake."

"You know I'm kidding." He smiles lopsided at me. "I love your hair. Green would only tone down the beautiful fiery color. Not to mention get in the way of my fingers." He looks at me seductively.

"Fuck off, Harry. And anyway," I take another bite and speak around the food "that's for you to decide only after we get home." I take a small, frosting-free bit of lime cake and tuck it behind my ear, batting my eyelashes. Making sure my hair covers it; I wait a few seconds before saying

"Drooling isn't a becoming look for you, Harry." He smiles wider, wiping his chin, his eyes still glazed and his body awake. Then he stands up, looking all around and saying

"Well I think we can call it a day, now, right? Good cake, I think we should just take this one. We can head home now, eh?" He starts to raise his hand to call for the witch before I force it back down, grinning.

"Calm down, we'll get home soon enough. Besides, I thought you were hungry."  
"Who says I'm not? That's why I want to go home." He grins at me, his emerald eyes flashing mischievously through his bangs.

Finally, after spurning Harry's eyes for a good ten minutes, I drag the third plate of cake between us. It's a yellow butter cake, covered in neatly poured dark chocolate and stenciled with red and orange curls. The curls open up every so often to reveal golden suns. One taste and I find the suns tasted like butterbeer. Harry sinks his fork into one layer and the sun he pierces bursts into a shower of golden sparks that whizz around us, fizzing and popping and smelling like sugar.

"Are you sure Fred and George didn't make this cake?" Harry asks me as he goes to eat it, dodging a gold outburst by his ear.

"Can't have done. It's too good. George is a terrible baker." I reply, my mouth full. Harry's eyebrows shoot up as he swallows his first bite.

"That's bloody good!" He exclaims as he skims the side of the slice with his fork, scooping up layers of the chocolate frosting. He runs the fork along his tongue until he's got a nice wide streak of chocolate along his face.

"Nice!" I say, prodding him with my fork. He looks innocent as he asks

"What?"

"You bloody well know what!" I say, scraping up the last of my plate and wiping a long streak of chocolate across my own nose. I screw up my face in mock curiosity as I turn to him.

"Have I got something cross my nose?"

"No." He says it so matter-of-factly that I almost want to believe him, but instead I prod his arm with my fork again.

"Liar!"

"Tell you what. I'll get yours if you get mine!" he asks, his eyes twinkling

"Deal!" I say, leaning forward. But before I get to his cheek, a large sun bursts right under his eye and fireworks spiral off in all directions. One lands directly in my mouth and explodes. Harry laughs at my shock.

"Don't laugh! You're just jealous because you didn't get one!" I say. But just as I say so, another bright gold firework rockets up Harry's nose. He sneezes into his elbow and shakes, hands on his knees. When he recovers, his eyes are still watering.

"I tasted that!" He says triumphantly.

"Ew!" I shriek.

"Hang on, I'll get yours!" He says, moving toward the chocolate setting rapidly into my skin.

"But I didn't get yours yet! I'm still hungry!" I say, holding my hand on his lips to stop him.

"Oh Well." He leans forward and licks the tip of my nose, getting the majority of the chocolate off. In turn, I go. Kissing the places the sun splattered, I finally get it off him. A salesgirl is looking at us with an entertained expression on her face. I grin at her, and she blushes and smiles and turns away. I turn back to Harry.

"You know, I like this one. I think it really stands for Ron and Hermione."

"You're right." Harry agrees. "The red designs match the trademark Weasley hair."

"Yeah they do, but not the green parts." I remove the lime piece of cake from my hair and offer it to Harry.

"Do you think I want that? It's got hair all over it!" He pulls back from my outstretched fingers. I begin to lower the cake, but he catches my hand.

"I'm only joking. Course I want it." He eats it from my palm, kissing the tips of my fingers. Then he looks at my face, and gets that expression that I love. The one that says he's happy. The one that says he's made a new Patronus memory.

"You know, I don't think I got all the chocolate off you."

"Really?" I smirk.

"Yeah, really." He leans forward, hand under my hair, and kisses me softly on the lips. We don't break apart for a while, and that's absolutely fine with me. When we finally do come up for air, though, he winks at me.

"You think we can hide the fact that we want this one and keep sampling?"

I feign thinking about it. He already knows what I'll say.

"Dunno. I'd have to hop in the shower soon as we get home to get all the frosting off my skin."

"I can help you with that." He says in a murmur. "I'm very good at showering."

"Deal." I say, and Harry calls the witch back, telling her to bring on the samples, we haven't found our perfect one yet. But I know we have.


End file.
